Military Romance Collection: Contemporary Soldier Alpha Male Romance (154 page)

Carrie felt a shiver as Samantha unintentionally echoed words Michelle had uttered so long ago, in a similar situation about the same man and suddenly, she couldn’t help but see Samantha as Michelle. She looked so much like her, sounded like her, and loved like her, too. She blinked back tears. Michelle! I'm so sorry, Michelle. I was so wrong. I was such a bitch. I shouldn't have ignored you. I should have trusted you—you never would have hurt me, and I hurt you, so, so much. I'm so sorry Jack never loved you the way you deserved to be loved, and I'm so sorry for everything…

“Don't worry about it, Carrie.” Samantha leaned close and gave her a quick, unexpected hug. “Everything will be all right. It’s all good.”

A weight lifted from Carrie's heart. She'd been absolved.

Chapter Eight

“Holy—” Shit. Jack nearly dropped his zucchini. “Carrie?”

Carrie blushed and nodded. “Hi.” She dropped her gaze, shy as a girl, standing in his kitchen doorway in short-shorts and a white V-neck top that clung to her breasts and showed off more cleavage than he'd ever remembered her having. He imagined what it would be like to draw his tongue over the soft, rounded globes, to push away the fabric and reveal her naked flesh to his gaze and his touch… Easy there, Jack. He pushed the images away. Still, his heart tripped in his chest like a runaway locomotive.

She licked her shiny, pink lips and blinked, her eyes appearing larger than usual, more luminous. Wide, dilated, as if she was aroused.

He wondered what his eyes looked like. Carrie fiddled with some loose strands of hair, pulled up into some kind of woman's hair comb-clip thing. He wished he could undo it, push his fingers through the silky, dark strands, and muss it up with a long, strenuous session of serious passion…

“Samantha invited me for dinner. Is that okay?”

“Yes. Sure. I'm—yes.” Get hold of yourself, Jack. You're babbling. “You look… I mean… Wow.” Good. Much better. Idiot.
              Carrie smiled. “Sammy dressed me this way.”

“And it was fun.” Samantha moved past her, pushing her into the kitchen and out of the doorway with her hip. “Hi, Dad. Pizza crust ready yet?” She turned to Carrie. “He grills it, you know.” She seemed so blithe, and he knew that she'd been scheming, playing matchmaker.

She did a good job. I'm ready to jump Carrie already.

Shut up, he told himself. That's not true. Besides, how do you know Carrie wants to be jumped? He turned to Samantha. “So that's where you've been all day. With Carrie?”

Samantha opened the fridge and pulled out the pitcher of iced tea. “Yep. Ooh, you put mint in it. Cool, Dad. Thanks. Carr? You want some?” She busied herself getting glasses and ice.

“Sure.” Carrie answered, then turned back to him. “We've been getting to know each other.”

Jack wondered how much of each other's lives the two of them had exchanged. “You have?”

“She helped me paper the upstairs hall. And other stuff.” Carrie blushed and plucked at her shirt.

“I'm trying to convince her not to move back to Texas.” Sam began pouring her iced tea.

Carrie gave him a nearly imperceptible shrug. No matter what Samantha thought, Carrie still wasn't sold on staying here.

Samantha put the pitcher back into the fridge. “She's been telling me the most interesting things about you. And Mom.”

Fear flushed through him. Like what? What did you hear? Had Carrie told her too much? Samantha was very intuitive. You had to be careful—she easily drew connections. She'd make a hell of a detective if she wasn't so bent on going into social work. “What kind of interesting things?”

“Oh, you know…like the fact that you were the hottest guy in high school.”

“I—I was?”

Carrie grinned. “Well, Michelle and I thought so.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. For now, anyway. “What else did she tell you?”

“Other things.” Samantha handed Carrie her glass of iced tea—she hadn't poured one for him, he noticed, and he wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad sign. Either she and Carrie had really bonded, or she was angry at him because…she knew he'd kept the truth of her paternity a secret.

Would Carrie tell her the truth?

And if she did…what would he do?

Jack turned to the counter and picked up the zucchinis. “I thought I'd slice these up thin and put them on the pizza with some fresh tomato slices and basil leaves, garlic and some mozzarella. What do you think?”

“Sounds boring.” Samantha plunked into a kitchen chair.

“Sounds healthy,” he insisted.

His daughter made a face. “Huh. What do you think, Carrie?”

“I think I'll stay out of this.” Carrie laughed lightly. She came up behind him and he could almost feel the warmth of her body against his even though she was at least four feet away.

He shivered. Carrie-da, in my kitchen.

“If you'd like, I'll slice the zucchini while you do the tomato,” she said.

“Sounds like a plan.” He pulled another knife out of the block and moved to the side so she could share the countertop-wide cutting board with him. “What do you like to cook?”

“To be honest, I usually eat something that I can nuke in five minutes or less.” She picked up the zucchini. “This is one big veggie.”

“I grew it myself,” he said.

“Really?” She picked it up, gripping it in her fingers. “You grow one very impressive zucchini, Jack Gavigan.”

“You have no idea,” he murmured.

Once upon a time, a comment like that would have made Carrie blush and stutter. But this was an older, more experienced Carrie. She tilted her head and pursed her shiny pink lips, and her eyes twinkled with a seductive gleam. “I think I do.”

Dear God. She did. An eighteen-year-old's only-once-in-the-back-of–a-car idea, but it sounded as if she was game to get an update. He gave himself a mental high-five. “After dinner, I could show you…” He peered over his shoulder; Samantha sat, holding her phone up and pressing the screen, pretending not to listen. He lowered his voice until only Carrie could hear him. “I could show you my other zucchini.”

“You have other zucchini? Bigger?” She drew her fingers lightly up and down the phallus-shaped vegetable. “Intriguing. How much bigger?”

“Big enough to satisfy…the greatest hunger.”

“I'm pretty hungry, Jack.” Her voice was a breathy growl that gave him goose bumps.

“Me too.” He let his gaze drop to the rounded tops of her breasts. Now that she was closer, he could make out the sheer, peachy color of her bra. It made him think of that time in the car, the only time they'd made love, and how sexy she'd looked in her lacy lingerie.

He bit back a groan. “I haven't…eaten…in a very long time.”

“Me, either.” She stared up at him; her gaze dropped to his mouth.

The sound of a cell phone's ring made them spring apart. Jack spun around to see Samantha bring her phone to her ear. “Hi. Oh. I think I could. I don't know…it's pizza night. Let me see if my dad would mind.” She dropped the phone. “It's a friend of mine. From school. She wants to know if I can go out. I'll be back at around…eleven-thirty. No, wait. I think more like one o’clock. Okay?” She stood up without waiting for Jack to respond, and hurried out of the kitchen. In moments, the front door closed and they heard her pulling out of the driveway. He turned to Carrie.

Her face was red, but her eyes still twinkled. “That was the worst acting job I've ever seen. She made her phone ring.”

“I don't blame her.” Jack felt his own hot blush. “That must have been pretty awful, watching your dad exchange sexual double-entendres like some kind of perv. I don’t know what I was thinking. I must have grossed her out completely.”

“I don't know about that,” Carrie answered. “Seems to me that's why she brought me here.” She looked at the zucchini, still in her hand. “So…we were talking about your…zucchini.” Her voice turned velvety. “Are you going to show it to me?”

His cock responded instantly, rising to the occasion like Lazarus. “I keep it upstairs. In my room,” he said, his voice husky.

She blinked and shook her head. “No. Not in your bedroom. I—I can't. Not there.”

He suddenly understood. His bedroom was Michelle's bedroom, and the bed there was one they'd shared. Inspiration struck. “Okay then. How about in my hot tub? I had it installed just last year and it hasn’t been christened yet, if you know what I mean.”

“Hmmmm…I didn't bring a bathing suit,” Carrie purred, dropping the vegetable on the counter. She reached out and drew her hand across his chest. He shivered, and his uniform pants grew uncomfortably tight as his swelling dick pressed against the zipper.

“Good. Because I don't own one,” he said, and dropped his mouth to hers. She had the perfect mouth, soft and pliant. He'd missed the feel of it, the taste of it, and the way she responded to him. Carrie-da… He loved kissing her then and he knew he’d love kissing her now.

She slid her hands from his neck, and he felt them tugging at the knot of the apron around his waist. She pulled away from his kiss. “Jack…why are you wearing this? Do you know Sammy makes fun of it?”

“She gave it to me.” He smiled. “When she was three. Besides, I like my apron. It keeps my uniform clean, so I don't have to change right away when I get home.” He reached around to untie the knot at his lower back.

Carrie cocked an eyebrow at him. “All right. I won't tease you about it, but only because it's got sentimental value. But I don't think the color is a good one for you.”

“Pink is the new masculine color. Besides, it's got a strawberry for a pocket. It matches the kitchen.”

“And it's got a ruffle. Take the damn thing off and shut up, Gavigan.” She pulled it from his hands and tossed it on the counter. He reached for her, but Carrie dodged him, reaching for his belt with a wicked look in her luminous eyes. She licked her pouty lips and he stilled, letting her undo the buckle. In moments, she had his pants undone and he grew incredibly hard. Like his dick was about to snap off, hard. When her fingers wrapped around it, his head swam and he gripped the edge of the counter.

“Now this is an impressive zucchini,” she said, falling to her knees to slide his clothing down his legs, never taking her silvery eyes from his cock. It seemed to lengthen even more under her hot gaze, bobbing to attention. She looked up at him, cupping his balls with one gentle hand. “I wonder how it tastes?” She licked her lips. Jack's knees grew weak. He gripped the top of a nearby chair with his free hand so he didn't fall.

“Unh,” he said. I can't talk. My brain. It's not…it's not working. He swallowed—his mouth was so dry. Carrie leaned forward, her hot breath brushing against the sensitive heaviness of his length. Ohgodohgodoh…

He inhaled sharply as the moist velvet of her mouth wrapped around him. Her tongue, moist and mobile, flicked over the tip of him and trailed down the sensitive line on the underside of his cock, then back up. She peered up at him, mischief in her eyes. Slowly, she began sliding her mouth back down.

He goggled as he suddenly realized that she was going to take all of him into her mouth. It wasn't possible. He was too big. She'd choke. But she opened her mouth wide and kept going, her throat muscles working rhythmically as she swallowed his length. Jack moaned and focused on not letting his legs buckle.

Carrie gagged, but, to her credit, she kept working at it and suddenly, his entire self was buried in her mouth and throat. It was…impossible.

But it wasn't. She drew her mouth up his length until the head of his cock perched on her lips. Carrie flicked her tongue over it, then started the long slide back to its base. And again. Faster, then faster still. He gripped the counter and chair so hard, his fingers cramped, but he had to. He was going to fall.

He was going to come. “Carrie, stop. I'm going to—”

“Mm-hmm.” She popped him out of her mouth and peered up at him coyly. “That's the idea.” Carrie swirled her tongue around his tip and gave his balls a gentle squeeze before opening her lips and engulfing him once again.

Jack saw stars as his eyes rolled back, and then his balls clenched and released their hot pulse of scalding fluid. And Carrie was taking it, accepting all of him—and that was the most amazing thing about it. He trembled as he came and finally, he was replete and could see clearly again. “Carrie-da…”

She finished him off with a slide of her tongue and stood, an impish grin on her face. “That was because I missed you. And because…well…I never did that for you.”

Then how did she learn to do that? With whom? He fought back a wave of jealousy. It was none of his business. Eighteen years is a long time. But…who was the guy? Was he hung like a horse? What if she still had feelings for him? What if—

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “And it's because—I love you, Jack Gavigan.”

He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a bear hug, his heart swelling until his chest ached. “Carrie-da. Don't you ever leave me again. I love you. I want to marry you.”

              She looked him up and down. “Jack Gavigan. I've imagined you telling me you want to marry me up, down and sideways, but I never imagined you doing it in your kitchen with your pants around your ankles.” She pulled away, leaned against the counter with her arms crossed, and grinned.

              Oh. Yeah. That. Well… She had a point. He felt himself blush and leaned to pull up his pants, zipping and buckling back up. “You imagined me telling you I wanted to marry you?”

This is good. If she's imagined it, then there isn't any special, well-hung guy in her life.

But still… “That was—incredible, Carrie-da.”

“Glad you enjoyed it.” She picked up the zucchini. “I feel kind of bad slicing this up now. Can we pass on the zuke?”

Jack peered over her shoulder. He pressed her up against the counter with his large, muscular body and his breath puffed hot down her neck, right against her collarbone. She shivered as he slid his tongue down her neck to the place where her neck met her shoulder. Oh. My. God. Carrie shivered as her body responded. She dropped the zucchini and closed her eyes as he bit and sucked at her sensitive spot. He remembers, she thought, her body growing liquid and slick. In moments, she crested into a quick, hard orgasm. She shuddered against him.